Tears for the Fallen
by Moonsong
Summary: SPOILERS Ep. 22- Youji wonders if they can be saved.


  
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** SPOILERS UP TO EPISODE 22 **  
  
  
  
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Tears for the Fallen  
By Moonsong  
tsukinouta@yahoo.com  
  
  
The heavy pounding rhythm rocked the very foundations. Gritting his   
teeth, the shadowy wraith hunched over his table and wrapped his   
arms around his head to drown out the awful noise. But still, the   
cacophony reverberated, bouncing from one lightly padded wall to   
another, searing his brain through the hazy fog of nicotine and   
alcohol. The additional strain as the shrieking guitars joined in   
caused his head to snap up.  
  
The place was dimly lit. Shadows, of various shapes and sizes   
pricked the edges of his vision, the entire wave swaying in an   
unearthly motion. Slightly dizzy, he slumped forward again and   
tried to block them out.   
  
~ In a darkened room beyond the reach of God's faith   
Lies the wounded, the shattered remains of love betrayed ~  
  
The undulating figures annoyed him beyond imagining. Who would be   
his next target? It could be one of them. In a sudden surge of   
adrenaline, his hand jabbed out and randomly grabbed a body.  
  
"Is it you?" he snarled menacingly, searching the man's frightened   
face. "Why don't I just kill you now and get it over with?"  
  
"Na-nani?"  
  
Just as suddenly, he threw the stranger down and flopped back into   
his seat, energy draining as quickly as it had come. The squirrelly   
man scampered away from him, fear lacing his movements. He ignored   
him and lit another cigarette.  
  
~ And the innocence of a child is bought and sold   
In the name of the damned, the rage of the angels left silent and   
cold ~  
  
// Ouka! Open your eyes! OUKA!! //  
  
The memory hit him sharply and his arm shot forward, knocking over   
one of the several bottles in front of him. The glass landed on the   
wooden floor with a crash. The shadows blurred for a moment and all   
he could see was....  
  
Her lifeless eyes. Omi's crumpled form as he cradled her bleeding   
form. Then the younger boy's shattered scream as something he   
didn't even know he needed was callously and ruthlessly ripped   
away. Thinking back, he was grateful that it had started raining a   
few moments before. He hadn't had to conceal his tears.  
  
~ Forgive me please for I know not what I do   
How can I keep inside the hurt I know is true ~  
  
He wanted to comfort the boy, to wrap his arms around his broken   
figure and reassure him that everything was going to be okay. But   
he did none of those things. The last thing Omi needed was another   
lie to pile on top of the numerous ones his fragile life had been   
built on.   
  
No, he couldn't do anything for Omi. Despite his tender years, the   
youngest member of Weiß had to learn- that sometimes people you   
loved die. Sometimes they died because of you. And in their case,   
sometimes you had to kill them yourself.  
  
~ Tell me when the kiss of love becomes a lie ~  
  
A flash of wire. The hiss of the monofilament. Within seconds, his   
life had flashed before his eyes even though he was the one doing   
the killing. A lifetime of laughs, of lazy days, and memories long   
gone. Within seconds, his life, his love, lay bleeding over his   
back, her last words threatening to rip him apart.  
  
~ That bears the scar of sin too deep to hide   
Behind this fear of running unto you ~  
  
// ASUKA!! //  
  
With an involuntary cry, Youji slumped to the table, causing many a   
strange glance from nearby patrons. Tears streamed down his alcohol   
flushed face. He didn't care. Almost everyone within ten feet of   
his table turned to stare. He didn't still care. He had killed the   
only woman he loved.  
  
Why couldn't he not care about that too?  
  
~ Please let there be light in a darkened room. ~  
  
Thankfully, the moment passed and his thoughts drifted back to his   
fellow teammates. Aya was already half-dead. He was a specter- a   
mere shadow of the boy he once was- and the man he should have   
been. After all, what was a man who lived only for revenge? What   
would he become after his vengeance had been extracted?  
  
He couldn't imagine it. Or more accurately, he didn't want to. He   
knew he was perilously close to understanding the aloof redhead   
already- his feelings, his motivations- and he was afraid. Afraid   
of what it would mean. Afraid of what it would say about him.  
  
~ All the precious times have been put to rest again   
And the smile of the dawn brings tainted lust singing my requiem ~  
  
He remembered Ken's swooping form as he swung from the trees, the   
gleaming claw aimed at his former best friend's heart. Under the   
cover of the nearby bushes, he could only watch as flesh tore open   
and blood spurted out onto the sidewalk, to be followed moments   
later by Ken's anguished form as he crumpled to the ground.  
  
There had been no comfort for the young assassin- only three   
figures looming above him eyes hardened to his plight. Their faces   
emotionless, but inside, begging him to hold himself together. For   
his sake. For theirs. They were already on the verge of cracking   
for him.  
  
~ Can I face the day when I'm tortured in my trust   
And watch it crystallize while my salvation it crumbles to dust ~  
  
And finally, the last member of the team- him. What was he anyway?   
He was a killer, no more, no less. A man without a name, without a   
past. He didn't exist except in the eyes of his four companions,   
his employer, and his few friends. What kind of an existence was   
that?  
  
~ Why can't I steer the ship before it hits the storm ~  
  
There was a time- no he couldn't think about that now. But the   
memory tempted him like a forbidden flower- beautiful on the   
outside, delicate petals concealing the bitter poisonous nectar   
within. His vision blurred and his hand spasmed once, nearly   
cracking the cheap shot glass clutched within it.  
  
~ I've fallen to the sea but still I swim for shore ~  
  
His mind swam. Swirls of colors, shapes, and sounds danced behind   
his bloodshot eyes. His head became heavy and he whispered the one   
word that both sparked and stilled his raging emotions.  
  
"Asuka..."  
  
~ So tell me when the kiss ~  
  
"You were always there for me, my shelter whenever the storm   
hit..."  
  
~ Of love becomes a lie ~  
  
"Even though you never realized that I loved you more than a   
friend..."  
  
~ That bears the scar of sin ~  
  
"Even though you never wanted or meant for me to..."  
  
~ Too deep to hide ~  
  
"I couldn't help myself..."  
  
~ Behind this fear ~  
  
"I nearly died when you were shot that night..."  
  
~ Of running unto you ~  
  
"Because I never got to tell you..." his voice died to a whisper.  
  
~ Please let there be light ~  
  
"Asuka..." a choked sob to honor her memory.  
  
~ In a darkened room ~  
  
"I love you..." and the tears that never stopped.  
  
Grief pouring in salty rivulets down his face, Kudou Youji finally   
allowed himself to mourn. For the countless lives cut short by the   
flick of a wire, the sting of a dart, the grip of a claw, or a   
thrust of a sword. For the countless other lives they had failed to   
save. For his beloved Asuka. But most of all, for the loss of four   
young men- who had given their souls so that justice would reign.   
  
But in the end, when it counted, did justice really matter?   
  
Could fallen angels still fly with broken wings?  
  
The haunting music played on.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
ENDE  
  
Notes: I was feeling rather angsty and rediscovered my Slave to the   
Grind CD which has a rather good selection of "I-hate-the-world-  
and-the-world-hates-me" songs. "In a Darkened Room" was somewhat of   
a theme song for me when I was younger and hearing it again   
propelled me into writing this. I know it's not terribly original   
but once an idea sparks, it threatens to overwhelm until penned   
down. So here it is, my first really serious Weiß Kreuz fic.   
Comments, feedback, suggestions, flames welcome at   
tsukinouta@yahoo.com  
  
Disclaimer: All original materials belong to their respective   
owners. Weiß Kreuz is © to Koyasu Takehito & Project Weiß. "In a   
Darkened Room" is © Skid Row and is from the Slave to the Grind   
album released in 1991. No copyright infringement is intended. The   
story is mine and I would appreciate you emailing me for permission   
before posting it anywhere else.   
  
Copyright © September 25, 2000 by Moonsong. All Rights Reserved.   



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